Nightmare Reality
by Gemini Willow
Summary: Elladan awakens from a nightmare to find himself in a nightmare... Warning: Rating is because the second chapter contains graphic violence.
1. Chapter 1

AN:// Heh, the story won't be fluffy for long...please read and review! BTW, for anyone who doesn't know my Eternal Mellyn universe, Nymph is short for Niphredil, Glorfindel's daughter (The nickname's explained in Chains, coming 31st October!)

Elladan's roughly four years old in this chapter, and the next chapter.

Glorfindel sat up quickly when the door flung open, and something attached itself to his legs. Peering down at the shaking shape, he discerned it was an Elfling, although it was difficult to tell which one in the darkest part of the night.

"What is wrong El?" he asked leaning forward and clasping the shaking figure to his chest.

"There was a Balrog and it was attacking Rivendell," Elladan sobbed.

Glorfindel gently stroked his hair, "Shh…there is no Balrog little one…it was just a bad dream."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Elladan sniffed noisily, "It felt so real though."

"Dreams are just like that," Glorfindel said, reaching towards the table next to his bed. He picked up a handkerchief and handed it to Elladan, "Have no fear 'Dan. If a Balrog ever attacked Rivendell, which is incredibly unlikely, I would protect you."

"And 'Ro? And Nymph? And-"

"-I will protect everyone," Glorfindel promised.

They sat like that for a while, Elladan's sobs gradually dying down. He suddenly stiffened as a thought occurred to him.

"What if you're not there?"

Glorfindel frowned, "What do you mean tithen pen?"

"What if you are not here if a Balrog attacks? What if you are in loth-lor-ion or the wilds?"

"Then the other warriors will protect Rivendell."

"What if they are not here?"

Glorfindel laughed softly, "There will always be someone to defend Imladris."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now come on, you should get back to bed."

"No!" Elladan clutched him tightly, "I want to stay with you!"

Glorfindel sighed, "Come on then," he lifted the cover and Elladan crawled into the bed and snuggled up to the warrior.  
"Besides 'Dan, there are no Balrogs around here. They would not like it here; it would be too cold compared to their lava pools."

"What if they wanted a holiday from being hot?"

Glorfindel chuckled, "Then they would go somewhere cold, dark, damp and infested with goblins."

"Oh," Elladan said sleepily, and began to drift off into dreams…

AN:// I'll try and update soon, but I've got two science tests to revise for and mum's limiting my computer time… Anyways, please leave a review on the way out!


	2. The Nightmare begins

Suddenly a scream echoed throughout Rivendell. Glorfindel shot out of bed, grabbed his sword and buckled his belt. Elladan frowned with confusion when he realised Glorfindel was fully clothed. Dismissing the warrior as the weird type who hated being naked, he sat up in bed as Glorfindel went to the window and threw back the curtain. Glorfindel gasped and took a step backwards, his hand flying to his mouth.

"What is it?" Elladan asked, scrambling to his feet.

"Sauron's forces are attacking!"

Elladan leapt off the bed, wide eyed and fearful, and followed Glorfindel as the blonde ran out the door.

The corridor was filled with panicking Elves, shouts for loved ones and friends were ringing throughout the corridors. His father and Glorfindel were attempting to restore order, but everything was happening too quickly for anyone to gain control over the chaos.

Someone grabbed his arm, and he looked round with a yelp. Elrohir was clutching his arm, his knuckles turning white, Niphredil standing anxiously behind him.

"I'm scared," she mumbled, biting her lip. Elrohir reached down and held her hand tightly.

"'Dan! 'Ro! Niphredil!" they looked around to see Celebrían and Nimdil hurrying towards them.

"Where is your brother?" Nimdil asked, grasping Niphredil by the shoulders, as if to make sure she was really there.

"Don't know," Niphredil replied, taking Elladan's hand in her spare one. Her hand felt cold but slightly damp. It wasn't an overly pleasant sensation, but he decided to bear it, hoping he was of some comfort to her.

"Celebrían, take the Elflings and run," Nimdil kissed her daughter, "I love you little one." She rose and let go of Niphredil, "Go, I will find the others, go!"

Celebrían grabbed Elrohir's hand, and led the three Elflings towards the gardens.

"What about Ada? And Glor'? And 'Restor? And-"

"They must defend Rivendell. It is my duty to get you to safety" Celebrían said, a tear running down her cheek.

"We cannot win against so many!" Elrohir cried.

Elladan frowned, for a moment his twin had sounded older, his voice had deepened and wisdom had glinted in his eyes. Then the moment passed, and Elrohir returned to being a scared little Elfling.

They ran into the garden, and Elladan gasped, his free hand flying to his mouth. Corpses lay scattered about the garden, fire burned bright in the night illuminating their horrific faces contorted in pain from their final agonising moments.

Blood stained the ground and was splattered crimson against stone. Screams of terror and pain, louder than before, rang through the air.

"Stay low," his mother murmured behind him, and all of them crouched behind the bushes.

The group held their breaths as a crowd of orcs ran past. They watched helplessly as Lindir ran out of the house, his sword drawn and gleaming in the moonlight.

"Lindir, no!" Celebrían whispered hoarsely. She grabbed Elrohir and Niphredil, and turned them away so they couldn't see, and closed her own eyes, whispering for Elladan not to look. But he watched horrified as Lindir killed the first orc, but the second stabbed him deeply in the gut. Lindir's scream echoed through the garden. Elladan clasped his hands over his ears, but he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes.

The orc pulled his blade out and plunged it back in at a higher angle. Another orc joined in, and soon the rest of the orcs joined in with the game. In and out the swords stabbed, blood pouring from numerous holes, bits of Lindir's flesh and organs slithering to the floor. His corpse dropped heavily to the floor.

One of the larger orcs let out a triumphant bellow, and said something in the Black Speech, causing most of the orcs to run into the house. One of them paused, looked down thoughtfully at Lindir's corpse, before reaching down and tearing off one of the Elf's ears. He walked off chewing thoughtfully on the tip. Elladan heard him comment to his companion, "Tastes like venison."

He frowned, 'Odd, I always thought Elves would taste like lamb or something," he shook his head rapidly. That thought was just too weird. He had just watched someone be killed, a good friend be killed, and all he could think of was what he might taste like. Something was definitely wrong here.

His vision started to fade, and suddenly a sharp pain radiated from his shoulder. Barely seconds later the pain vanished and his vision cleared. He frowned and looked around, gently rubbing his shoulder.

"We have to get out of here," Celebrían whispered from behind him.

"How?" Elrohir asked.

"I am not sure… Maybe the secret tunnel, if we can get to it."

"What secret tunnel?" Elladan could not remember ever hearing about a secret tunnel.

"There is one that leads out of Imladris. It is located near the Ford of the Bruinen."

"But what if we can't get to it?" Elladan asked, turning to look at the others. His mother simply shook her head, guilt etched into her face.

Elrohir frowned and placed his small hand on her knee, "Nana?"

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," she said, shuddering slightly. She rose, and beckoned the Elflings to follow her.

They slowly moved through the bushes, occasionally letting out little gasps or cries when a thorn or splinter dug deeply into their skins.

The only time they paused was when bodies or pieces of bodies landed in amongst the bushes. Each time bile rose in Elladan's throat and his stomach heaved, but he swallowed heavily, and nudged his twin and Niphredil onwards.

When the bushes ran out they paused, hesitant of what to do. Elladan crept past his mother, and peered out at the scenes of chaos in the lower courtyards and gardens of Imladris.

People he knew, his** friends**, lay dead or dying everywhere he looked. Carrion birds were nibbling at the insides of Elves, tearing open the corpses with their sharp beaks and glutting themselves upon the flesh inside.

Melpomaen, one of Erestor's best scribes and a fierce warrior, lay on the ground, his pain-filled emerald eyes stared at Elladan. His chest was bloodied, white bone jutted out of it, fractured, and he wheezed painfully, attempting to draw breath. Elladan guessed one of the bones had pierced his lung, and now his friend's lungs were filling with blood, slowly choking him to death.

He inhaled sharply as he noticed the next two corpses. Gloríon and Nimdil lay dead, side by side. Gloríon's corpse was too heavily bloodied for Elladan to tell how he had died, but Nimdil's throat had been torn out. By fangs.

His stomach twisted, and he heard Celebrían gasp as she saw them. The other two surged forward. Elrohir stiffened.

"Nana? Glor?" Niphredil whispered brokenly beside him. He knew she would run over to them, get killed herself, but he could not move as she dodged past Celebrían and Elrohir, and ran to her family. She flung herself down on her knees and sobbed harshly, crying for them to come back, to open their eyes and get up.

Beside him he could hear his twin and mother calling for her to come back. He wanted them to leave her alone with her grief. But at the same time he wanted all of them to be out of there, out of danger. He wished this had never happened.

A sudden bellowing roar caused his to look round. A cave troll lumbered towards Niphredil. He surged forwards, but Celebrían caught the back of his shirt.

"We can do nothing. All you would do is die," she whispered.

"She's our friend!" Elrohir cried.

"I know," she said simply.

The twins watched horrified as the Troll approached Niphredil. Sensing the danger, she sniffed, wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked up. She screamed, and hastily moved backwards, tripping over a corpse.

Then Glorfindel, Elrond and Erestor were running towards the Troll. The Troll growled and threw its spear. It flew through the air and impaled Erestor in the stomach. The dark haired advisor groaned and dropped to the floor.

Elrond slowed and turned his head to look at his friend. A pained cry tore from his throat.

Glorfindel kept running, an anger burning fiercely in his eyes, a roar escaping his lips. The Troll looked at the Balrog Slayer calmly, before swinging its club. The club hit Niphredil with force, and she flew through the air to land back beside the crouching Elves.

Elladan swiftly crawled out of the bushes, and turned her gently onto her back. She was dead. He sobbed softly, hearing his twin crying behind him.

A shout caused him to turn around. His father had joined Glorfindel and the two of them were striking the Troll, trying to find a weak spot in its armour-like skin. Elrond stuck its side, and it roared. Glorfindel then leapt off the floor and struck it in the mouth, his sword thrusting up into the Troll's brain, killing it instantly. The troll then fell on top of him, crushing him.

Elrond gave a cry and pounded against the side of the Troll. A tear ran down his cheek.

Then his mother finally moved, running across to her husband and throwing her arms about him. The twins swiftly followed, hugging their father's legs tightly.

"Ai meleth nin, when I could not find you I feared the worst," Elrond said.

"We are lucky Arwen is in Lothlórien and was not forced to witness this," Celebrían replied.

Elladan blinked, that sounded wrong…

But before he could puzzle out what was wrong with the statement another roar rang through Imladris.

The stone on the left side of the courtyard glowed red hot, and then white hot, and then melted all together.

"Run!" Elrond commanded, but none of them could move, fear had paralyzed them.

A moving fire entered the courtyard. Nay, not a fire, a Balrog. Elladan's mouth went dry at the sight of the legendary creature whose kind had done so much damage in the history of the Elves.

It noticed the terrified family, and took a step towards them, its feet burning bodies to ashes.

"Celebrían, take the children and run!" Elrond commanded, but none of them moved a muscle as the fire demon moved towards them.

Then Elrond drew his sword, gave a battle cry of "Eärendil!" and ran to meet the Balrog. Its whip flew out and Elladan swiftly looked away as his father's scream rang in his ears. The smell of charred flesh filled his nostrils and he fell to his knees as his stomach emptied itself.

A second scream, this time from his mother, filled the air.

A hand grabbed his arm, "'Dan please, we have to move!"

He looked up at his brother's tear streaked face, his mouth tasting disgustingly acidic.

"It's hopeless 'Ro…we lost this battle before it even began," he murmured. Elrohir sobbed and clutched at him.

"Then hold me as we end here my brother."

Elladan spread his arms and clutched his brother, before glaring at the Balrog, "Come on then! Come and finish the job!"

The Balrog took a step forward, its whip lashing out again. The twins grip on each other tightened.

A burst of heat and then he was falling…falling into darkness…


	3. A nightmare?

i 'Death, fire, burning, dead, Ada, Nana, Elrohir… NO!!!' /i

Elladan awoke with a gasp, and sat up quickly. Fiery pain erupted through his body and he cried out, his eyes screwed tight against the pain.

i 'Find them, have to find them!' /i

A firm, gentle hand pushed him back into the soft bed, and someone brushed his hair out of his face.

"Elladan?"

i 'Adar?' /i Elladan thought incredulously. b How/b He opened his eyes. Elrond, relief and exhaustion clearly etched in his face, smiled at him.

"Adar?" his voice was weak, as if it had not been used much, "How? The Balrog…are we dead? It hurts too much for us all to be dead. Where is Elrohir? What happened? Where am I? What is the time? Who-"

Elrond placed a finger against his lips, effectively quietening him.

"There was no Balrog, it was just a nightmare. You are not dead, but you have been unconscious for nearly three days. Elrohir is…nearby," Elladan narrowed his eyes, there was something guarded about Elrond's voice when he spoke of his youngest son. Something was wrong.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Elladan closed his eyes. He remembered the pain, the burning anguish, the fire and shadow engulfing him…but that was a dream. He remembered fear, death, Imladris ransacked by evil…but that had also been a nightmare. So what had happened? He thought back deeper, longer, and then, slowly, he remembered.

[Four days prior

Elladan drew his sword out of the orc, wincing at the squelch that came with the action.

"Anyone badly injured?" Glorfindel yelled from somewhere behind him.

"Elrohir's in a pretty bad way," Bragolan replied. Elladan turned to see the younger warrior kneeling beside Elrohir, a deep gash across his twin's side.

Glorfindel frowned, gazing around at the rest of the group. No-one was unscathed after that vicious battle, but they had to get back to Imladris as soon as possible. The orcs should not be so close to the borders.

Elladan moved over to Glorfindel and murmured, "Half-half. If three of us ride swiftly we can warn Imladris, whilst the other three trail more slowly behind us."

"I thought of that. But if there are more orcs around, especially another group like this…three would never get out alive, especially with one injured."

"Maybe if we bind Elrohir's wound and ride as hard as possible…" Thalion suggested.

Niphredil shook her head, "We have to do something fast, but I think that will cause more damage in the long-run," she said, absent-mindedly scratching an itch on her arm, "Your call Adar."

"You are far too generous Nymph," Glorfindel said, rolling his eyes, before slumping against a nearby tree.

Elladan moved over to his injured twin, "How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad. Moving him is a really bad idea, but we have not got a lot of choice," Bragolan replied.

Elladan scowled, "If we knew the number of orcs…"

Bragolan laid a hand on his friend's arm, causing a cut on the Elladan's upper arm to throb painfully. He winced, that shouldn't hurt that much.  
"Something wrong?" Bragolan asked.

"Arm hurts," Elladan said shortly.

Elrohir startled both of them by snorting softly, "What happened to "warriors do not indulge minor wounds" muindor?"

Elladan shrugged, rubbing the cut, causing more pain to flare in it.

"'Dan, get over here," Glorfindel ordered. Elladan rose, feeling sorry for the Captain. He knew how difficult these sorts of decisions were.

Niphredil, still scratching her arm, passed him, going to help Bragolan with Elrohir. He smiled at her. She frowned at him thoughtfully, and he paused. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Glorfindel, repeating his command to Elladan with more force. Elladan shrugged apologetically and went to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel sighed and quietly murmured, "I honestly do not know what to do 'Dan."

"Elrohir's strong Glor, I think we can ride. It will not help the wound, but he and Adar will understand."

Glorfindel sighed again, before pushing himself away from the tree trunk, "Bind Elrohir's wound tight. We ride hard and swift. We will reach Imladris before nightfall."

"Is that wise?" Bragolan asked.

"Nay, but we have no choice," Elladan replied, helping his twin onto his horse. He jumped up behind him and wrapped his arms gently around his younger brother. Elrohir leaned back against him, his eyes slowly closing.

Ten minutes later the six of them were galloping hard through the forest. Elladan's arm had started aching constantly, and he had let it drop to his side, only using one arm to support his unconscious brother.

A thought suddenly struck him, what if the orcs' weapons had been poisoned? They would never make it home!

He opened his mouth to call out, to warn the others, but a sudden flare of pain caused the cry to die in his throat, and all that came out was a strangled gasp.

"Elladan?" he heard someone ask, but he was already slipping down into the darkness that welcomingly engulfed him…

* * *

"The orcs blades were poisoned…but we did not realise…" Elladan said.

Elrond nodded, "After you fainted Glorfindel realised something was wrong. They stopped and realised they were poisoned. Glorfindel decided to press on-"

"-Foolish," Elladan muttered.

"He had little choice; he did what he could at the time," Elrond sighed, "By the time you reached here only Glorfindel was conscious. He fought the poison until he had given his report to me."

Elladan smiled, "I would expect no less from him."

A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he quickly sat up. Too quickly. His vision swam, and he fell back onto his pillow.

"Elladan, do you never learn?" he heard his father ask.

"Give me a few decades…or centuries," Elladan laughed. Then he remembered why he had panicked and sat up in the first place, "Adar…Elrohir. How is he?"

Elrond looked over to the left, Elladan followed his gaze. His twin lay in the bed next to him, with his back to them.

"He is weak from blood loss and the poison dreams torment him," Elrond said softly.

"Is there no way to dispel the poison?"

"I have done my best. This poison, this "bane of the night", has no antidote, so thank the Valar it is not lethal. I could only drain the wound site; the poison that is already in his bloodstream must run its course naturally," he tenderly stroked Elladan's forehead, smiling when he found the fever lessened, "Now, drink this," he picked up a cup from Elladan's bedside table. Elladan caught the scent of lavender and olorloth, a herb used for deep, dreamless sleep.

"But Adar!-"

"- No "buts" Elladan. You cannot do anything for your brother save rest and recover your strength so you may be well rested for when he does need you."

Elladan sighed; his father was right. He obediently drank the tea before closing his eyes and slowly drifting off into sleep.

* * *

When he next awoke it was dark. He sat up, more slowly than the previous times he had attempted to do so. Although his wounds still hurt he felt more alert, and he guessed the poison had finally left his system.

He looked over to his brother; Elrohir now lay on his back, his breathing uneven; a light sheen of sweat covering his brow.

Glancing around he was surprised, but not necessarily unpleased that he could not see any healers; the only occupants of the room were the six Elves.

Bragolan and Thalion slept peacefully. Glorfindel had his back to Elladan, so it was impossible to tell if he was awake. Niphredil's arm was flung over her face, and she was mumbling softly, too quietly for Elladan to make out any words.

He pushed back the covers, and gently felt for the floor with his feet. He cautiously rose, and managed to walk over to his brother's bed. He sat down next to his twin, softly stroking his brother's hair.

"Are you meant to be out of bed?" Elladan jumped, and looked round. Glorfindel was now on his feet, resting against the wall as he attempted to move across to his daughter's bed.

"Are you?" Elladan replied dryly.

Glorfindel smirked, before grimacing in pain. He took another step and all but fell onto Niphredil's bed.

"She has already been attacked by orcs, poisoned and had terrifying nightmares. Do you have to squish her as well?" Elladan asked laughing.

"Where is your Adar?" Glorfindel asked, ignoring Elladan's jest.

Elladan frowned, why was he making jokes when his brother and friends were so gravely wounded?  
"I do not know, I have not seen him since this afternoon…at least I think it was this afternoon…" he laid his hand over his twin's. He gripped softly, feeling his twin's heartbeat. It was irregular but strong, and it reassured him. Elrohir was still alive. He was a fighter, he would survive, "How is Nymph?"

"She burns with fever," Glorfindel's voice was a mere whisper in the dark.

Elladan opened his mouth to inquire after Glorfindel's health, when he suddenly realised his friend and mentor was crying. He felt shocked, the last time he had seen Glorfindel so upset was when they had found his wife…

"Why was I so foolish? I should have realised, I should have known. Nymph's arm, Elrohir's weakness…We should have stopped…but what good would that have done?" He stopped talking and simply sobbed hopelessly.

Elladan's ears turned pink, this was wrong. He shouldn't be here; he felt that he was intruding on something private, something no-one should see.

"They could have all died. 'Ro and Nymph might still die! I am a thrice cursed fool!"

"You did what… you could. Blaming yourself… will solve nothing," Elladan jumped at the sound of Bragolan's drug slurred voice.

"It is my fault!"

"Did you… create the… orcs? Do you command… their forces? Did you put… the poison on their… blades?" A pause, as Bragolan gathered strength for his next words. Elladan stroked his brother's hand. He assumed Glorfindel had shaken his head, as Bragolan continued, "Precisely! You… did your best, and …no-one blames you… for what has happened."

Another pause, and then Glorfindel whispered, "Thank you Bragolan. Stop fighting and go back to sleep, you need the rest."

Elladan guessed Bragolan did as his captain suggested, as his breathing slowed and a gentle snore reached his ears.

Footsteps alerted him to another entering the room. His head snapped up, and locked with the grey eyes of his father's advisor, "Are you supposed to be out of bed Elladan Peredhel?"

i 'This is not good, he used my full name!' /i Elladan thought with a grimace. Aloud he replied, "I cannot leave Elrohir."

"Your Adar will not be-" Erestor was cut off by a scream which made Elladan turn his head quickly.

Niphredil had seized up, every muscle tense, her breathing quick and shallow. And then all Mordor broke loose.

"Nana! No, no, Nana! Ada! Ada help! 'Dan! 'Ro! Where are you! Please… please! 'Dan, please do not let him hurt me!" she started to thrash desperately, trying to escape the clutches of the nightmare demons.

"Erestor, get Elrond. Now!" Glorfindel shouted over his daughter's cries, attempting to hold her still. Erestor had already turned and ran out the door.

Elladan shuddered; his friend's cries were tearing his soul apart. He buried his head into Elrohir's pillow, his twin's raven hair stroking his cheek.

"Nymph, Nymph, it is alright! I am here, everything is alright! Please open your eyes," Glorfindel pleaded Niphredil.

She was lost in her nightmare and apparently couldn't hear him, "Ai no! Please! 'Ro, open your eyes! 'Dan! Oh, 'Dan help!"

A tear formed in the corner of Elladan's eye and fell onto the pillow. There was nothing he could do. He felt so useless.

He heard Niphredil gasp suddenly; he heard chocked sobs and then a weak whisper, "Ada?"

"It is alright Nymph…I am here."

Hurried footsteps informed him of his father and Erestor's return. Someone touched his shoulder lightly, and he sat up into Erestor's embrace.

The advisor gently stroked his hair, the way he had always done when Elladan was scared as an Elfling. He watched his father checking over Niphredil to see if she had torn any stitches.

"Is she alright?" Erestor asked.

"Fine," Niphredil replied before either of the Ellyn could, "Just…Just a bit shaken."

She hissed in pain as Elrond gently touched the skin by the stitches.

"I do not think you have done any harm," he sighed and looked at Glorfindel, "It would be a waste of time to tell you to get back into bed, would it not mellon nin?"

Glorfindel nodded and grinned, "I am not going anywhere…except maybe under some covers…it is freezing in here," he paused and frowned at that thought. Elves weren't supposed to feel the cold, "Do I have a fever?"

Elrond smirked and nodded. Niphredil pushed back the cover a little; Glorfindel slid under it and lay down beside her.

Elladan smiled at the touching scene, and then winced as his father gave him a stern look.

"Elladan, what are you doing out of bed?"

"I…I wanted to see if Elrohir was alright," he swallowed, his mouth was as dry as the Haradric Desert, "Is he…Will he be…Is he going to die?"

Elrond stood still for a few moments looking sombre, before crossing over to his son. Erestor rose and went to the other side of the bed, unwilling to interfere in the private father-son moment.

Elrond sat on the bed and embraced his son. Elladan rested his cheek on his father's chest, listening to the elder elf's heartbeat.

A sudden compelling caused him to open his mouth and start talking, "It was horrible. The nightmare I mean. Everyone was just…and there was a Balrog, and a troll and orcs and… everyone I knew. Everyone I care for…just. Dead…Only…Not Arwen," he frowned, "There were patches were the dream made no sense," he suddenly giggled, "Glorfindel had clothes on in bed," he shook his head, "That should've told me something was wrong," he scowled, "I should've known!"

Elrond didn't say anything, only tightened his grip on his son slightly.

"There were more weird things. Like why Nimdil wasn't in bed with Glorfindel…I mean…it was late already when I ran into his room. And someone mentioned…Nana…" a tear slid down his cheek, "She said it was lucky Arwen was in Lothlórien, but I was too young for Arwen to even have been born. She was not even conceived!"

He sniffed and continued, "No-one called Nymph by her nickname. Her old one I mean…and then an orc ate Lindir's ear," he screwed his face in disgust, "He said it tasted like venison."

Elrond let out a half amused, half disgusted snort.

"And then there were times when Elrohir seemed older than he was…he'd talk as if we were adults on patrol, not Elflings whose home was being burnt to the ground. And there were the pains in my shoulder…"

"I guess that was when I was draining the wound. You twitched and stirred a little in your sleep. I paused and you went back to your dreams."

"Ah…and then there was a "secret tunnel," which does not exist," he shook his head, "So many things, how could I have thought it was real?!"

"Nightmares are often so tithen pen," Elrond gently stroked his eldest son's hair.

They sat in silence for a while, before Elladan asked again, "Will he live?"

"Truefully I know not," he sighed, "It shames me to admit it 'Dan, but there is naught we can do other than pray 'Ro is strong enough to survive," Elrond gave a sad smile as Erestor laid a hand on his shoulder and sat next to him

"He is strong El, he will pull through," Erestor said softly. Although it was unclear whom he was addressing, both half-elves felt oh-so-slightly stronger.

Erestor entered the infirmary, his eyes taking in the scene with one glance. Only Glorfindel's bed was occupied, the other three pronounced well enough to leave the infirmary, as long as they did not over strain themselves. Bragolan and Thalion had resumed training and border watches, although Elrond did not want them to go any further in case a relapse occurred.

Niphredil had resumed half of her duties, spending the rest of the time at Glorfindel's bedside in a chair, where she was currently sleeping, her head drooping onto her shoulder, eyes half shut, staring unseeing at her father's face.

Glorfindel had fought the poison the longest, and, as such, it had left him greatly weakened, so Elrond had insisted on him staying longer as he knew Glorfindel wouldn't rest when told to.

And Elrohir…he gazed down at the still limp form, the young half-elf so different to when he was awake, the bright fire running through his veins that caused a boundless energy and fierce determination, extinguished by the poison's icy bite.

"Is there still no change?" he asked Elladan.

Elrond's eldest shook his head sadly, "His fever has gone down a little bit, but not enough to break," he sighed, "I despair that it ever will."

"Do not say that 'Dan."

"Adar says that if it does not break soon, in the next few days, we will have lost him," the half-elf whispered, bowing his head, his dark hair, falling in a curtain to hide his face as tears slid down his face.

Erestor sighed sadly again, and then he saw something which caused his heart to thump erratically.

"Elladan! He has stopped breathing!"


	4. Chapter 4

Author note: Hi everyone, I honestly hadn't realised I hadn't posted this chapter on here, it's been written for…about a year now? :P Sorry! I still hate the format of this site and I've more or less stopped writing fanfiction, but you can find me on lotrfanfiction . com

Elladan gave Erestor a harsh shove, "Get Adar. Now! Go!"

Without pausing to see if the elder elf had obeyed him Elladan put his fingers under his twin's chin and forced his head back.

There was a crashing from behind him, but he ignored it, his ears bent over his twin's mouth, praying to feel a moist gust of air, or to hear an inhale or exhale of breath. None came. He swore, and pinched his twin's nose shut before sealing his mouth over his twins and breathing into Elrohir's mouth.

"What is happening?" someone asked dazedly. He again ignored them, exhaling again before drawing back, intently listening for the sound of his brother breathing. He shook his head when he found nothing and repeated the process.

"He has a pulse. It is weak and erratic, but it is there. Keep going 'Dan!" Niphredil urged. He didn't pause to ask her what she was doing there, continuing the routine, his fëa crying out for its twin to return.

"His pulse is getting stronger," Niphredil murmured as Elladan again for the countless time in the last few minutes breathed out into his unresponsive brother's mouth.

Checking again for breathing, Elladan's heart leapt as he heard a soft sigh, and felt a gentle brush of air against his cheek. He waited there for a few seconds, gradually feeling the gusts of air becoming steadier and deeper.

Elladan looked up and grinned at Niphredil who smiled back. The half-elf stretched and looked around. He noticed the chair Niphredil had occupied earlier was on the floor, and guessed the crash he had heard earlier had been her falling off it. His guess was proved right when she followed his gaze, blushed, and muttered, "Ever tried getting off a chair in a hurry from an uncomfortable position?"

"I have actually. With a lot more grace I might add."

Hurried footsteps signalled the entrance of Elrond and Erestor. Both hurried over to the bed, looks of relief and delight on their faces as they saw that the youngest son of Elrond had not yet passed to Mandos' Halls.

Erestor paused at the edge of the bed, trading relieved grins with Niphredil, but Elrond swept on past and caught Elladan in a hug.

Elladan wrapped his arms around his father's waist and buried his head in his chest. "This does not look good, does it ada?" he asked sadly.

"I am afraid not 'Dan. But 'Ro is strong. If he has pulled through this time he may well do it again."

***

Elrohir stopped breathing twice during that night, both times revived by Elladan and Elrond; both had stayed by his bedside unable to leave for fear something would happen whilst they were not there.

The birds were beginning to chirp outside, signalling the oncoming of dawn. Elladan was sleeping fitfully on Elrond's shoulder, his eyes closed with exhaustion (1). Elrond's arm was wrapped around him, keeping him close to his father, whose eyes never left the still form of his younger son.

Elrohir's eyes slowly opened and he weakly whispered, "Adar?"

Elrond leant forward, accidentally awakening Elladan, who moaned sleepily, but immediately straightened on seeing his twin awake, "'Ro!"

"'Dan? How...?"

"Damn orcs had poisoned blades. You have been unconscious for days, we have been worried."

"Oh…sorry," Elrohir murmured.

"How do you feel íon nin?" Elrond asked softly.

"Sleepy…"

"Go back to sleep then tithen pen, we will be right here."

***

"'Dan? I am cold," Elrohir said pitifully.

Elladan laid a hand on his twin's forehead, "I think you have another fever coming on."  
"What do you mean, "Another one?" I have had a constant one for…how long did you say it was?"

"I am not sure, I have lost track of time…it is at least a day since you first woke up," he stood, "I should go and get adar."

Elrohir murmured something incomprehensible, but Elladan guessed it was something rude he would have said if he was in his right mind, before saying, "I will be alright 'Dan, do not fuss so," he gave his twin a wide-eyed pleading look before asking, "Come and lie with me?"

Elladan sighed, "Adar told me to get him if your fever rose again."

"And? It is not like I am going to die Elladan."

"Do not say that Elrohir!" Elladan's voice rose several levels, causing Elrohir to bite his lip and turn away from his brother. Elladan sighed; he had never been the best at being sensitive. And his twin was always easily upset when he was ill.

"'Ro, look at me," Elladan said. Elrohir shook his head, his body beginning to shudder. Elladan hesitated a moment, before climbing into bed with his twin, wrapping his arms about his brother's waist. Elrohir tensed, but Elladan did not appear to be angry, more upset than anything else, so he relaxed, leaning his head back onto his brother's chest.

"'Ro, that was a foolish thing to say. You nearly died thrice. You stopped breathing."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"I…I do not know. I guess I did not feel it was something you needed to know."

"But if I had known I would not have upset you there by being ignorant."

Elladan placed a kiss on his brother's hot forehead, "I could never be angry with you for long muindor nin. It was not your fault."

Elrohir smiled and closed his eyes.

They lay like that for several minutes, and then Elladan started to pull away from his brother. Immediately Elrohir's eyes flew open, he turned and grabbed Elladan, "Please do not leave me!"

"I have to 'Ro, I have to go and get adar."

"Why?" Elrohir was sounding like an elfling now, and Elladan could feel his temper rising again.

Clenching his fists, hoping Elrohir would notice and take it as a sign to leave him alone, he said, "Because you have a fever, and it means you are still ill and adar should be here in case something goes wrong."

Elladan turned his back to his brother, heading for the entrance, when Elrohir made a heart-wrenching noise of abandonment that simultaneously filled Elladan with sadness, pity, and anger.

He turned. Elrohir was watching him with wounded eyes, "Ai Valar!" he swore.

"Elladan?" his heart leapt at the sound of his father's voice.

"Adar, come quick, Elrohir is being a nightmare!"

***

Several weeks later…

Elladan lay against the trunk of the tree, a leg dangling from the branch he was sitting on. Niphredil was leaning against the tree-trunk, watching Elrohir and Glorfindel, both restored to full health, sparring on the lawn outside the east entrance to the Last Homely House.

His heart warmed to see his brother and mentor with bright sparkling eyes, their movements swift and unhampered by wounds, poison, or exhaustion.

Elrohir did still occasionally awaken in the dead of the night with a heart-wrenching scream. But Elladan would always be there, ready to comfort his brother, reassure him everything was alright, to let his twin cry on his shoulder as his Elladan held him until he had fallen asleep again.

Elladan snarled, glaring fiercely at a rose which drooped slightly, as if feeling the elf lord's withering gaze. Everything came back to orcs. His mother…his dear beloved mother…Glorfindel's wife, Nimdil…and now with that attack still fresh in his mind. Elrohir groaning on the ground as blood oozed from his wound, Elrohir lying corpse-like, not even breathing, Elrohir writhing desperately in his arms trying to escape from a nightmare…And there had been so many others, so many other attacks, so many friends, family, fellow warriors, he could picture their faces, dead, dying, wounded, lost in nightmares…how many friends had he lost to orcs?! Countless members of his family slain by the forces of darkness! (2)Just because he had never known them did not mean that he would not have liked to have met them!

And no matter how many lives were lost by the elves, there were always more orcs. Always. Well, they would pay. Elladan swore it. They would be the ones with nightmares, waking up with cold sweat after dreaming of lethal blades and ringing elven war-cries. They would be the ones worrying over the latest raids which had killed so many, and they would be panicking as the bright-eyed elves with shining blades stormed their dark tunnels and killed indiscriminately.

"'Dan?" he looked down at his twin. Niphredil and Glorfindel were talking on the steps to the Last Homely House. Too far to hear exactly what was said, but close enough incase anything should happen.

"Yes 'Ro?"

"Are you…well?"

Elladan nodded, i I will be muindor. When you and I are side by side killing the orc filth…when my blade is bloodied and I am drenched, b drowning /b in their blood…I will be fine. Just fine. /i

(1). My theory on Elven sleep is that they only sleep with their eyes open when they're well. If sick, poisoned, wounded, fading, or exhausted their eyes will close during sleep.

(2) Elladan's referring to family like Elwing and Eärendil, who he has never met, who sacrificed themselves in the fight against the darkness (Wow, am I in a poetic mood tonight or WHAT?!)


End file.
